Thank you
by TifaRokkuhato
Summary: Riza was hoping to have a quiet evening in, but her chances where broken when a familiar knock was heard on the door. But was her night worth interupting? Bit cheesy, but cute. One shot.


'Lieutenant.'

'Hawkeye.'

'Ma'am.'

These would be the names that she would be known by at work with her work colleges. But now she could relax and simply be just Riza', and not have to worry about any formalities that surrounded her. In the comfort of her own home, with a cup of tea and the radio quietly playing in the background. With a swift pull, she took of her military jacket, and unzipped her trousers. Rummaging through her near empty wardrobe, out she pulled some simple baggy jeans and a cream coloured turtle-neck jumper. And, of course, some fluffy slipper-socks, courtesy of Little Miss Rockbell.

Wait- more like Little Mrs Elric.

"Crazy how quickly things grow up when you're not focused." Riza has realised that she was also ageing. She was still a long way off till the title of 'Middle Aged' for sure, but the rate of time had surely escalated over the past few years, and looking back, Riza had realised how much had happened in what seemed a short amount of time; she had lost track, and 3 more years had zoomed by.

The young lieutenant's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the kettle, it's impatient whistlings echoing throughout the small house; reaching up using her tiptoes, she grabbed a cup, a bag of sugar, then opened a draw to grab a small teaspoon.

The sound of knuckles against oak alerted Riza, causing a sigh of disappointment to emit from her lips.

"Looks like I'll have to wait." Walking towards the door, she quickly kicked small piles of mess into corners, hoping that the guest wouldn't be wanting to stay. She reached for the door handle, but couldn't help but her the murmurs of a conflict outside her door.

"Sir, are you sure-"

"Goddamnit, I'm fine! You're dismissed. Thank you for escorting me here."

"My pleasure, sir. Have a good night."

The repeating of knocking startled Riza, causing her to open the door quickly and hastily. She looked at the man outside her door, his fist still in the air. "You were eager."

Riza blushed, and opened her mouth to explain, but soon canceled out the thought.

"Good evening sir." Riza eyed her superior, surprised to see him in clothing which was strangely formal: for Mustang it was, anyway. A plain white shirt with a black tie around his neck, along with plain black trousers. "May I ask what you're doing here?" The general shuffled his feet and messed with his hair.

"Nothing wrong with visiting a good friend once in a while." Riza sighed and stepped to the side.

"Welcome." Roy smiled, and stepped into the small house, carefully navigating his way through the twists and turns of the furniture. Life, admittedly, became much more of an inconvenience than an honour since Roy's sight was snatched away from him. Luckily, his reflexes and navigation skills were sufficient enough to just cover the loss of his sight.

But not always.

A small heap of clothes on the floor caught the General's shoe, causing him to fall forward, with no knowledge of any objects placed anywhere, so grabbing an object was out of the question. A swift grab of a shirt and a hefty pull stopped him from landing face first into the solid wood flooring. Roy could feel a hand on his wrist, and looked up to smile and say thank you. But the harsh reality hit him once again, and he was reminded how much things had changed. He could no longer just glance at someone, or sneak around without the aid of a colleague. It was like he was beginning to walk all over again, have to re-learn life's obstacles, but with one vital component missing.

"General, maybe it's best that I help you."

A grumpy nod and a sigh let Riza know the answer, and guided him to the kitchen with his wrist, taking care to not har him. Even though his abilities could be made up for in the battle-field, his everyday life was even more of a challenge. When one cannot even guide himself to a room without making a klutz of himself, Riza knew she would have to look after him even more.  
Roy sat down on the kitchen chair, and felt the table infront of him. It was strange: in his home, there was only a small couch and nothing more.  
Not like it would matter anymore, not like he could manage excessive amounts of furniture scattered around his home.

His assistant silently made tea, and Roy listened to the processes that Riza carried out. The sloshing of the water being poured into the cup; the plop of the tea-bag; the sprinkling of the sugar; the removal of the tea-bag; the pouring of the milk, then followed by the clunk of the cup hitting the table. After a little fumbling, Roy Mustang, the great General, sipped on his perfectly made tea. His assistant knew just how he liked it: strong, two sugars, and only a dash of milk. Having made countless mugs of tea over the years, he was only used to the perfection in the cup.

"Thank you, Hawkeye-"

"Please, sir. Just Riza. I'm off duty."

Roy nodded, and took another careful sip of his tea. "Then, don't call me sir. Just Roy.

Riza's eyes widened: she wasn't used to the casual talk that she and 'Roy' hardly shared. It was only ever usually strictly formal talk, but it seemed that the General may have been slightly intoxicated. But it brought happiness to Riza.  
The faint noise of the radio still hummed in the background, breaking the strange silence between the two. Now they were out of work, not even small talk seemed to create conversation; Yet they were both very much happy just sitting in silence, enjoying each other's company whilst they drunk their tea. Maybe ten minutes had passed, and Roy placed his empty cup of tea back onto the stained saucer on the table.

He stood upon his feet, listened for the direction of the radio, and followed the faint sound of music emitting from it. Riza just watched in concern as he navigated his way past a few chairs, and slowly turned up the small radio on the kitchen counter. He carefully turned around back to Riza, and once again walked back towards the table.

"Riza?"

"Gen- Roy." Using her voice as a guide, he turned towards her, and held out his hand. A confused Riza just stared, not used to this strange behaviour coming from her superior. "What-"

He just gestured for her to stand up with his hand. She followed his instructions, as always, and just stood there confused. Another small gesture signalled for her to raise her hand. Of course she did, and gasped when he eventually placed his hands into hers. He used his other hand to lift her remaining hand and place it onto his shoulder; slowly, but carefully, he placed his calloused hand onto her waist, and smiled slightly. He began to sway slightly, causing Riza to do the same. Though clunky and clumsy at first, their feet soon began to work with each other, and they developed a slow rythm that matched the music blaring from the radio. Their slow movements began to speed up, yet still remained careful, as Riza had to be the guide, making sure they didn't fall into any objects in the room. However, as Roy became more aware of his surroundings, he could, soon pretty much move independently, and began to lead the dance.  
A sweet atmosphere was in the air. The mix of the music with the silence of the couple along with the dancing seemed to be the simplest happiness. Roy pressed Riza closer to his chest, and she didn't decline the gesture. She just blended into his body.

It was like two puzzle pieces that had been lost had been eventually been found and placed together. They interlocked beautifully, and there seemed to be no reason to take them apart. The swaying around the room became more and more extravagant, causing giggles to emerge from Riza. Deep laughter also emitted from the General's throat, and a smile appeared on his lips. The two just danced around the kitchen, laughing, no cares to be given. They were both in another world; no wars, no conflict, just pure happiness surrounding them. All negativity seemed to be blocked out to them.

The tempo soon slowed down and returned to small sways; Riza hesitantly removed her hands from Roy's, but just moved them to his back, and pulled him into an embrace, her feet still in a steady rythm to the music. Roy did the same.  
The blonde rested her head onto his shoulder, taking in his musty smell. Even though she would never admit it, she was in pure bliss. The general followed her rhythmic movements whilst his hand delicately stroked her back, moving his fingers up and down, sending a pleasurable shiver down her spine.

"Thank you, Riza."

Riza just smiled into his shoulder: even though she knew he could not see her, he knew her well enough to know her emotions from a mile away, on the battlefield or just in the office. But the air between them was different. It was no longer a visit from a colleague, but a visit from her closest friend, and the only man she had left to consider family.

"No need to thank me. Roy."

She lifted her head,a dan stopped the movement of her feet. Her eyes stared into his empty, almost soulless eyes. It saddened her to think that he couldn't stare back into her eyes, and that he couldn't see how truly happy he made his friends and his people. Even though Roy could see nothing but the empty darkness, he refrained himself from moving, knowing that Riza was staring into his soul. "I enjoy looking after you. I should be saying thank you, not you."

"I can ensure you Riza; I would not have reached the position I am now, without the help of you."

"If you say so, Sir- Roy."

"Thank you." He repeated. He tried to picture her eyes looking at him. He concentrated, and concentrated, and using only the sheer power of his mind and imagination, he convinced himself that her was looking into her eyes, not just imagining it.

"Thank you." He repeated over and over. Riza said nothing when a single tear ran down his cheek, and dropped onto his tie, which now hung loosely around his neck. She just tightened her grip on him, hoping she would never have to let go.


End file.
